The Princess's Story
If you started a new character or rerolled an old one after the 24th of February 2012, you are given the option to listen to the princess tell the story of her father as you progress from Castille and finally arrive at Draak. Part 1 You have been born in Castille, humankind's last stronghold. Beyond the relative safety of Castille lay the horrors of reality, a brutal and unforgiving land once dominated by man now reclaimed by darkness. Part 2 You have reached Stronhad. I must admit I did not expect you to. Most men are far too frightened to venture along Traveler's Way, a road I used to walk as a child -- not even to my father's displeasure -- but that was long ago. Stronhad was always the center of commerce with so many markets that spilled out of the town to the roads surrounding; perhaps one day they again shall. I will commune with you again when you reach Fenelia. Part 3 Breathe deeply; the scent of the surrounding Fern Grove is said by the Sylvains to cure many ailments. I wonder if it is still so majestic a place, now their race is no more. It was between these trees that I found my closest companion or perhaps she found me. Atrilla would not have been much of a Sylvain, had I seen her first. The grove was our favorite place during the hot summers and probably the only place south of Atlimus that did not swelter with unbearable heat. Part 4 My father, Draak, a child of Castille, was born in a time when many kings vied for dominance. Not a noble by blood, he found his true taste for conquest after catching sight of a beautiful princess, who, upon his approaching, laughed at him like a schoolgirl as her guards escorted him from her presence. But this is no fairy tale. She was not my future mother, nor did he later acquire her by honorable means. Bathed in the blood of her guards, my father realized his true nature. Nodiatis would know no better conqueror. Part 5 Atlimus... My father understood the importance of this cold, dank fortress, and taking it from its elderly king was not a difficult task for a young man as devious as my father. It was the first and most important stronghold of his fledgling kingdom, with an unmatched vantage point. On a clear day you could see the port of Castille from here. This is not likely anymore, given the angry skies, but with such advance notice of invading armies, it gave my father the ability to use his small army to constantly attack rather than wait and defend. Part 6 The siege on Burdinia was a horrific event by all accounts. Eager to expand his kingdom, my father assumed Burdinia to be a quick victory, given its small size. But he underestimated the resolve of the cold-hardened people there, and the bloodshed lasted months instead of days. Enraged by his new failure, my father hunted the last of the Burdinians into the snowy hills, and turned the snow red with blood. Part 7 The people of Maalin had a long history of dragon taming. Since they were staunch enemies of Burdinia, my father turned to them as allies to strengthen his army. Unbeknownst to my father, they feared him most of all, and attempted to poison him at a banquet feast. He always said his work as a young tanner made him impervious to poison, but his pride was the most scarred from this assault. In an act of rare brilliance, he used the event to strengthen himself politically, and demonize all those who opposed his kingdom's expansion. He would later fake assassination attempts to bolster himself, but they were never quite so effective. Part 8 With an ever-growing army and popularity, my father turned his gaze southward. Stronhad never had a ruler. Its lack of governance was what made it so popular among traders. Thievery was on the rise, however, and my father began to offer protection to merchants for a cut of their profits. Those who declined found themselves the target of random vandalism, and soon enough my father became the de facto ruler of the land's most valuable crossroads, which afforded him an army of incredible size. Part 9 The seamen of Castille had long been at war with the ogre-like race of people of Roggork. Pirate boats from Roggork would commonly assault merchant ships, causing a general hatred and disgust of all southern cave-dwellers. My father, now the political strategist, brokered a 3-way peace between Roggork, Fenelia, and Castille. It was a peace based on lies, as the Sylvains soon found out. My father had promised Roggork access to the rich groves and jungles south of Fenelia. Not desiring war, the peaceful Sylvains withdrew, but their distrust for my father was fully rooted. Part 10 The same tactics used on Stronhad merchants worked on Castille seamen, and my father had not only an army, but a navy of considerable size. He sailed north to Dreval, where he found a most unusual aquatic race. They were sheltered and naive and easy prey for my father to exploit. They became allies as my father promised them protection in return for the rights to most of their lands and treasures. But he would not need to wait long before it was all his. Part 11 My father's destruction of Dreval happened, much to his amusement, by accident. Exposure to a barrage of inland ailments, for which the native people had no immunity or remedy, enveloped their community like a tidal wave. My father promised to have his fastest ships dispatched to find a cure, but those closest to him knew that he was all too happy with their eventual extinction. Ever naive, they remained loyal till the end, though my father faked an assassination attempt to hush any dissenters that questioned our presence. Part 12 Many years had passed since the slaughter at Burdinia, but their cousins in Slevisk had not forgotten, and nor had my father. When his armies marched west to begin the conquest against King Selonius, my father wished to avoid the same bloodshed as before, but his tactics were just as barbaric. Having surrounded Slevisk, he was able to block off their supply of burnable fuel. An entire city froze solid over the course of many months, and although no blood was spilled, it was a loss of life on an epic scale. Part 13 Crella was a very unique city. My father called it a city of clowns. There was no need for a conquest here, as the Crellians would bow down to any who entered. Essentially a race of jesters, these performing people had no desire to fight, only to please. My father found it amusing, and harrassed the idiots there to perform embarrassing acts to assert his implicit dominance. I always found this place quite disturbing. Part 14 Zugrul was on the outskirts of the settled world when it met my father's gaze. It belonged to a magical people of mostly solitary wizards and druids, and they made their distaste for outsiders known. With his massive army, my father used a familiar tactic and surrounded the city, cutting off all resources to starve them to death. Nearly a year of waiting had passed without sign of surrender, and my father grew impatient. Legend has it that my father only came upon one corpse, one with his very face, and wearing his very crown. They say that the people of Zugrul used magic to vanish, and to curse my father. But I know my father was cursed long before then. Part 15 Aerthol was the only city that stood between my father and his ultimate goal of the sandy throne of King Selonius in Reydor. This city was home to the land's most majestic arena, where men would settle quarrels and debts by spilling blood. My father set up machines of war outside the gates of Aerthol and bombarded it with rock. Selonius rode north to command his finest men to launch a counterattack against my father's bombardment, which was devastatingly successful. Too successful, Selonius soon realized, for my father had secretly taken a small troop through the valleys through the east, and arrived at Selonius' all but unprotected kingdom of Reydor. Part 16 As was my father's tradition, he forced himself on the queens and daughters of his fallen foes. But Selonius' queen was the rarest of beauties. Her deeply toned skin, glowing green eyes, and sun-bleached hair made her an exquisite gem among the brown eyed, dark haired, beauties of the sun-swept lands of Reydor. Selonius would have sooner killed her, rather than seen her ravished by the likes of Draak. Gripped by the agony and crushing reality of his unthinkable blunder, Selonius ceased breath. All known lands now lay under my father's banner, and he took Selonius' queen as his own. Part 17 My father, now known as the Great Uniter, found the relative simplicity of conquest quickly replaced by the complication of politics. The cave people of Roggork, whom he had been bribing to cease their pirating, were banding together and ever demanding more. These civilian combatants were a most troublesome foe, as my father could not simply kill them, for fear of being labelled a tyrant. His solution was to shift the debt of his promises onto the shoulders of others. He made it the legal responsibility of wealthy landowners to feed and clothe the poorest in their communities. Although this was lauded as a great act of fairness, those who once came to landowners for low paid work now came for handouts, and the amount of impoverished grew. With it, my father's disdain for politics also grew. Part 18 Tired of the quibbling demands of his increasingly dependent populace, my father set out again to adventure and to conquer. With his now pregnant queen at his side, he regained his arrogant confidence as he appropriated commodities from his own people to feed his hungry army. Dorfellia was a majestic island kingdom of legend, and my father was delighted to lay siege and plunder some new wealth. I was born on this island, absent from my father's presence, as he was busy with the newly-acquired Dorfellian women. I was told my mother died in childbirth, but I now know she killed herself shortly after, unable to bring herself to do so while carrying child. Part 19 My father, despite his flaws, did truly love me. He devoted more time than one would expect a conquering king to be able, in order to see me enriched and happy. He took me to the far corners of the land in order to show me the glories of his kingdom, always careful to shelter me from the harsh realities of the innate savagery of man. On one such occasion, he was unable to do so, when a dissident group of Crellians tricked my father and attempted to abscond with me. They made it but a hundred yards before my father himself was upon them. He ripped and gutted them with a ferociousness I will not forget, no matter how many hundreds of years I remain in my prison of immortality. Part 20 My father found a new enemy in the orcs of the North. Said to come from the depths of the underground, the orcs now had a stronghold near a formerly dormant volcano. He knew I both grew tired of travel, and scared of him after the events of Crella, and he allowed me to stay in Stronhad when he went north to establish a stronghold in Ustenar. I had my own small army of keepers who were responsible for ensuring my safety both from harm and from witnessing the impoverished nature of the land outside, my crystal of comforts. These were my fondest days, travelling with my Sylvain companion Atrilla between the affluent sections of Castille and Fenelia. Everything seemed so peaceful and perfect. Part 21 Though I had never seen it, this day had always been coming. Much to my distaste, my father had demanded that I take residence in Atlimus, my only solace being that I was able to bring Achilla with me. I could hear the fear in the voice of the turret crier as he yelled down that Castille, Stronhad, and Roggork were aflame with riots. But, what he tried to yell next sounded more like a horrified yelp from a dying animal. Simultaneous to the riots, Ustenar had been overrun by an unimaginable force of orcs, and the horde was chasing our routed army straight to Atlimus. I was whisked away in the night by my keepers, and promised that Atrilla would be with us. But I never saw her again. Part 22 I must've thought I was in a dream, heir to the only and most powerful throne, now in a mule-drawn carriage, bouncing through a forest of giant toadstools. We were told that the air in this forest was fatal if breathed, but I had not yet died from the foul stench. I was met by my father and his royal guard in Fa'ar, a secret establishment of my father's, set aside for such an occasion. He told me we would be safe here, but his white face and distant eyes told another story. We spent several weeks that felt like years, as my father would often be heard yelling, if not killing, messengers bringing him ever-worsening news of the state of his kingdom. Part 23 It became apparent that we could no longer stay in Fa'ar. Enough messages had come through that the secrecy of this place had been lost, and my father feared the mob as much as he feared the orcs. On a perilous journey, we descended down the cliffs of the Endless Canyon and followed it south until we found a stream. We sailed north in horrible conditions for what seemed an eternity, until we came upon Andol. Our stay here was short lived, as this haunted town proved true to the legends, and several of my father's royal guard began mysteriously dying. We had to continue west to the ruins of a mighty castle my father had been building, before having to halt construction due to his absolute lack of money. Part 24 I spent my final days in the ruins of my father's failed fortress. Castle Draak, as it would have been named, was a perfect illustration of the failure of reckless ambition. The days grew ever shorter, eventually giving way to perpetual night. My father's state eroded to a near madness as he would weep only to lash out in fits of rage that frightened me dearly. His royal guard remained, but they now hardly resembled men. I felt alone in the darkness, surrounded by evil. It was not long before the orcish horde was upon us, surrounding us just as my father's army would with their inferior prey. I felt a sense of comfort, knowing the end was near, but their leader called down to my father and made him an unimaginable offer. I was to be traded in exchange for the return my father's kingdom, in all its glory. The orcs would retreat with me to the depths of the earth. After several minutes of contemplation, and unable to look at me, he signalled for me to walk forward. I obeyed. Overcome with sadness, I was swallowed by the darkness as the overwhelming roars of laughter drowned out my father sobbing, and that is the last of my memories. ''Story transcribed by Coccyx and Daeronryuujin '' Category:Storyline